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Izuku hasn't been paying enough attention to Shouto.
Of course, that's in Shouto’s own opinion, and he knows he can be a bit of a brat. He knows he's demanding and greedy for his love's attention.
But really, isn't it his opinion that matters the most when it comes to this specific issue? Shouto certainly thinks so.
Shouto also thinks he's made his feelings on the subject quite clear. He's pouted, he's sighed, he's huffed and puffed and he's even made sure to wiggle his cute ass in Izuku's eye line plenty.
It's yielded him nothing. So what if his boyfriend has weapons deals to finalise, debts to collect and negotiations to oversee? Isn't the whole point of being the head of a yakuza group that he can delegate and shit? Izuku's got plenty of subordinates to help him out. His second in command, Bakugou, can easily handle most tasks.
So, in Shouto's opinion, Izuku's now in the hole for at least three days' worth of attention to be paid to one Todoroki Shouto, and since it looks like he's not going to pay up, well, Shouto's just going to take a page from Izuku's book and give the stupid man some consequences.
He looks in the mirror and smirks at his reflection. With his jeans so tight there's a serious risk of blood flow issues and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and top three buttons undone to showcase his forearms and smooth, toned chest, Shouto knows he looks like Izuku's wet dreams come to life — and tonight, he's actually going to fucking notice.
Shouto isn't going to give him a Goddamn choice in the matter anymore.
Sauntering into the event room, Shouto runs a hand through his dual-coloured hair and lets his lips curl smugly. The place is crammed wall-to-wall with members of Izuku's yakuza as well as members of syndicates they have business alliances with, and while normally at these get-togethers Shouto beelines for his boyfriend and stays wrapped around him as Izuku wheels and deals, tonight's going to be different.
Izuku's across the room, looking delicious as he converses with Bakugou. Shouto takes a moment to drink in the view before Izuku notices him.
Wearing a slate grey suit that's tailored to perfection and hugs Izuku's muscles in all the right places, a navy blue dress shirt that's tight across his chest, and colourful tattoos showing across his hands and winding up his neck, Izuku is a vision. The scar that runs in a diagonal line through his left brow before disappearing into his green curls only enhances his visual appeal to Shouto, and everything about the way he's built and moves screams predator.
Not your run-of-the-mill predator, either. Izuku is apex, lethal, and without parallel. He's untouchable and deadly beautiful.
Shouto wrenches his eyes away. If he keeps looking, not only is he going to be tempted to screw his plan and just head straight over there, but he's going to get too hard for jeans as tight as the ones he's currently wearing to hide. As it is he's sporting a semi just from thinking about how dangerous his love is.
Instead of following his dick and gravitating towards Izuku, Shouto sets his sights on a business associate of his boyfriend's, Chisaki Kai. He's the perfect mark for Shouto's plan because he's got enough clout to prevent Izuku from retaliating in a fatal manner, and Shouto's fairly certain the man is as straight as an arrow so he won't be getting led on by Shouto's imminent flirtations.
Out of the corner of his eye, Shouto sees Izuku notice him. He sees his boyfriend's deep green eyes darken with dangerous desire even as he continues his conversation, and he sees Izuku's mouth twist in displeasure when it becomes clear that Shouto is heading for someone other than him.
It takes a conscious effort for Shouto not to grin with the knowledge that his plan is working.
'Your eyes are on me now, huh, Izuku?' he thinks to himself as he puts a little more sway into his hips.
The two men talking to Chisaki notice Shouto's approach and their eyes widen. Shouto might not be yakuza, but everyone knows he belongs to Izuku, and that affords him some respect as well as plenty of notoriety.
"Chisaki-san," he purrs, sliding right into the man's space and standing at his side, barely centimetres separating them. It's widely known that Chisaki is a germaphobe, so Shouto can't touch him very much, but that's okay.
If everything goes to plan, Izuku should be ripping Shouto from Chisaki's side before Shouto can do much as brush a hand against Chisaki's sleeve.
Chisaki turns, narrow golden eyes cataloguing Shouto's appearance in a clinical, detached manner before returning to Shouto's face. He inclines his head respectfully.
"Todoroki-san," he greets. Shouto lets his lips peel back, flashing a white-toothed smile as he purposely hoods his eyes and leans towards Chisaki, pretending to be magnetically drawn to the man.
"It's a pleasure to see you here tonight," Shouto murmurs, raising his voice enough that Izuku should be able to hear the blatant innuendo from across the room. Chisaki looks baffled — and why wouldn't he be when Shouto's never actually spoken to him directly before — but doesn't question Shouto's behaviour, instead rolling with the punches and falling into casual banter Shouto has no problem injecting with sexual wordplay.
Just as Shouto places a hand on Chisaki's arm and bats his lashes, he sees movement from the corner of his eye.
A flash of green moving inhumanly fast.
Shouto smirks.
Gotcha, Izuku love.
"What do we have here, hm, honey ?"
Shouto winces. Izuku's large, scarred, and tattooed hand is curled around the back of his neck in a way that could be interpreted as affection were it not for the way his fingers dig craters into the side of Shouto's throat with a bruising grip.
And because Shouto's fucked up, his dick twitches in his painted-on jeans while he presses further into his boyfriend's harsh grasp instead of trying to pull away. As Izuku's fingers crush around his throat even more harshly, Shouto's eyes flutter with pleasure.
"Midoriya-sama," Chisaki replies cautiously, eyes flicking to Shouto's throat before returning to Izuku's face. "Your boyfriend was just talking about—"
"I'm sure whatever tale Shouto was regaling you with was fascinating, but I'm really more interested in why you two were standing around looking like you were five minutes from fucking on the spot," Izuku interrupts. His words are breezy and casual, but from the corner of his eye, Shouto can see the thunderous expression Izuku's wearing.
It's the kind of expression that conveys Chisaki should tread carefully.
The conversations around them continue, everyone well aware that stopping and staring is a good way to end up on Izuku's shit list, though Shouto knows Bakugou will be watching the interaction carefully wherever he is in the room, ready to jump in as soon as Chisaki seems to pose a threat.
"We were just talking, love," Shouto murmurs, preparing to throw gasoline on the fire once Izuku turns his attention to him. Their eyes meet and Shouto lets his gaze become challenging. "I just wanted some company," he says mournfully, "and you weren't paying me any attention. What else was I supposed to do?"
Izuku's forest-green eyes narrow dangerously as he clenches his jaw. The hand around Shouto's neck slides up into his hair before tightening, pulling, and Shouto's scalp burns.
It's enough that he has to swallow a moan.
"So the second I have to focus on business, you're going to go off and look for someone else to fuck you?" Izuku hisses. Shouto can feel his blood flowing into his cock, filling it out as it starts to pulse steadily.
Chisaki pulls a face, not one of disgust but certainly enough to tell Shouto that he chose correctly; Chisaki would never want to get into Shouto's pants. At best he's been humouring Shouto all evening since Shouto has more status than Chisaki in Izuku's eyes.
If Shouto didn't devote what little empathy and conscience he has to Izuku, he's sure he'd feel bad for pulling Chisaki into his game and getting him in trouble in the process.
"I have needs," Shouto emphasises to Izuku, adding more fuel to the already towering inferno of his boyfriend's irritation and jealousy. "You've barely even looked at me for days ."
It's only because he knows Izuku so well that Shouto can tell there's a thread of predatory amusement buried beneath all the possessive anger. Like he's thrilled that Shouto has initiated this little game between them.
"Oh, honey," Izuku coos, all fake sugar and sympathy, "you've got my attention now. I wonder if you're going to wish you didn't."
Shouto doubts it. Highly.
Mostly because he knows full well there's no hiding the hard-on he's now got thanks to Izuku's harsh hands and burning gaze.
"Chisaki-san," Izuku continues without waiting for Shouto to reply, "why don't you go and say hello to Bakugou? I'm sure the two of you have business to discuss."
Whatever dark creature lives in Shouto's chest that makes him crave cruel touches perks up, grinning satisfactorily. 'Say hello to Bakugou' is Izuku's way of telling Chisaki he's due a beating for entertaining Shouto's flirting.
Chisaki clenches his jaw but nods, unwilling to go against Izuku's instructions, and departs without a second glance at Shouto.
Shouto doesn't care. The man was a means to an end, nothing more.
Now all he needs is for Izuku to finally pay attention to him properly — and from the sinister shadows lurking in his boyfriend's eyes, Shouto's fairly certain he's about to get what he wants.
"Well, Shouto," he says in an eerily dark voice, "I think we should go and see about your punishment for this little escapade, don't you?"
Shouto's knees go all jelly. " Yes," he breathes out.
"So, you were feeling attention-starved, hm, honey?" Izuku purrs, biting the juncture of Shouto's neck and shoulder. They're kneeling on the bed, facing their full-length mirror so that Shouto can see what's happening to him.
His white shirt is long discarded, exchanged for metal cuffs that lock his wrists behind his back and bite into his skin. His jeans are unfastened, exposing the way his hard-on makes his black underwear bulge, and Izuku's hand is locked in his hair, holding Shouto's head in place tightly as the sting makes his cock throb.
"Yes," Shouto breathes, chest heaving. "You left me lonely for three whole days ."
Izuku hums before sinking his teeth into Shouto's neck just a little further up, soothing the sting with a swipe of his tongue. "And you think that gives you the right to offer what's mine to low-level scum like Chisaki?" He bites again, just below Shouto's earlobe. "Because that's what you are, gorgeous. You're mine. This beautiful throat is mine."
He sucks on the sensitive skin he's just bitten.
"This perfect face is mine."
He caresses Shouto's cheekbone with his thumb.
"This chest is mine."
He pinches and rolls each of Shouto's nipples, one after the other, smirking when Shouto arches his back and gasps.
"This waist and these hips are mine."
He holds Shouto's waist between both hands, fingers almost meeting, before skimming his palms down and squeezing so tightly Shouto's sure he's going to bruise.
"This cock is mine."
He cups Shouto's erection, rolling his thumb over the head and wetting the fabric, covering it in the precome gathered there. Shouto moans, thighs quivering.
"And this ass, honey? This ass is mine ."
He lands a harsh palm against Shouto's asscheek with a resounding crack, forcing a louder moan from Shouto.
"Do you understand, gorgeous? You aren't your own to offer to anyone. Not even to me, because I already own you," Izuku whispers, lips brushing Shouto's throat tauntingly. Already, Shouto is nodding with mindless enthusiasm, submitting to his boyfriend's will. He can feel his pulse thud, thud, thudding through his hard length and he's already desperate to be touched properly.
"Answer me," Izuku hisses, pulling Shouto's hair harder and forcing his back to bow almost painfully.
"I'm yours," he whispers, breath hitching at the beautifully dark look of ownership in Izuku's reflection's eyes. "You own me. All of me. 'M all yours."
A slightly feral rumble comes from Izuku's chest as his lips curl, a pleased expression slipping onto his face.
"That's right, honey," he says encouragingly. "But I'm just not sure I believe that you believe that. After all, you weren't acting like you believed it earlier, were you?" He hums, catching Shouto's earlobe between his teeth and biting down. "I think you need to be reminded, honey. I think you need a refresher on why you agreed to let me own every single part of you when we got together."
Shouto shivers. This is exactly what he'd been hoping for when he slunk up to Chisaki and preened around him like a horny peacock.
"Please," he chokes out. He's so hard that just the brush of cotton over the sensitive head of his dick is getting him hot all over, and he just needs Izuku to absolutely fucking wreck him. He's craving it like a shot of heroin, shaking with desperation.
It's been far too long since Izuku and he were alone like this, and being at the centre of his love's attention again has him practically dizzy.
"Oh, now you've got good manners," Izuku chuckles darkly. "Don't worry though, honey. My attention is all yours until you remember why it's worth waiting for. That there’s no point in looking anywhere else because only I have what you really need."
By the time Izuku's finished threatening Shouto — because make no mistake, it is a threat in its own way — he's trembling against Izuku's chest, eyes unfocused as he stares into the mirror, lips parted on a silent moan while the cuffs are unlocked and fall from his wrists.
Izuku smirks at him. "That's what I like to see," he purrs.
"That's it, baby," Izuku whispers, sliding a third finger into Shouto's stretched entrance. They're still kneeling on the bed, still facing the mirror, only now, Shouto is naked and Izuku has stripped down to his underwear.
A pink flush of arousal spreads from Shouto's cheeks to his chest, and his hard length bobs in the air, dripping pre-come onto the dark sheets beneath him. One of Izuku's hands is wrapped around Shouto's throat, holding him steady while he just barely restricts Shouto's airflow.
Izuku has, according to the clock on the wall to the left of the mirror, been fingering Shouto and opening him up for thirty minutes. Shouto's knees are a little numb, and his thighs are aching both from holding himself up and from resisting the tremors running through them.
The pleasure is almost overwhelming, borderline painful in the best way. Shouto's hands keep twitching towards his cock, wanting to stroke until he makes himself come, but he knows if he waits, Izuku will give him something so much better, so instead he arches his back slightly and stretches his arms behind himself, pawing around until he finds Izuku's hips with his hands and grabs onto them.
"Could anyone else give you this?" Izuku says, lips ghosting over Shouto's nape. "Could anyone else make you feel this good, hold you right at the edge like this for so long without pushing you over or pulling you too far back?"
Shouto shakes his head awkwardly, unable to move very much with Izuku's hand gripping his throat so securely. "No one," he rasps in a hoarse voice, "no one but you."
Izuku's fingertips graze over Shouto's prostate and he makes a strangled sound, choking out a gasping moan at the jolt of pleasure it gives him. He focuses his gaze on the vibrant Japanese-style tattoos on Izuku's hand, following the lines of the traditional cherry blossom branch up his boyfriend's wrist and onto his arm to distract himself from how good he feels with Izuku's fingers petting right over that spot again and again.
"That's right, honey," Izuku hisses, tightening his grip on Shouto's throat. Shouto gasps, jerking his hips forwards, cock seeking friction that it isn't going to get. "This is what you were asking for, throwing yourself at someone else. Asking for me to drive you mad with pleasure, weren't you?"
Defenceless from the overwhelming sensations running through him, all Shouto can do is nod weakly. This is exactly what he's been desperate for.
Izuku grinds his clothed cock against Shouto's ass, groaning quietly as he grants Shouto's prostate a reprieve and resumes thrusting the digits in and out. Shouto slumps in relief and Izuku moves with him, hand leaving Shouto's throat so he can wrap his arm around Shouto's waist and help hold him up.
Shouto moans, letting his head fall back against Izuku's shoulder. "I think you're ready, baby," Izuku murmurs into his ear. Shouto's cock jerks at the idea of finally getting Izuku's dick inside of him and he whimpers softly as the three fingers are removed from his ass, clenching around nothing and almost sobbing at the emptiness.
He gets no sympathy from Izuku.
Instead, Izuku's solid form disappears from behind him and he finally crumbles, sinking down until he's sitting on his heels. Looking at his reflection, he can't help but feel immensely satisfied. He hasn't even been fucked yet and he already looks destroyed; strands of hair stuck to his sweat-slicked forehead, cockhead a dark red with a significant pearl of pre-come gathered on the slit, a pink hand print lining his throat and a dazed look in his mismatched eyes.
"Ass up, baby," Izuku's voice instructs as he reappears in the picture in the mirror, underwear finally off to expose his painfully hard-looking length. Shouto briefly admires the artwork adorning his boyfriend's skin as well as his scars, scars that Shouto loves to trace with his tongue, before the issued command registers with him.
He meets Izuku's eyes in the mirror and immediately knows he's going to pay for that moment of distraction somehow. The darkness swirling in Izuku's eyes is truly menacing and sends shivers running through Shouto's body as he complies, pressing his shoulders and face to the sheets while leaving his ass in the air, legs slightly spread for balance.
The tip of Izuku's dick nudges at his loose hole, but before he slides in and fills Shouto up, a hand connects with his left cheek, the pain searing his skin as he moans from it, high-pitched and surprised.
"Fuck," he gasps out, eyes fluttering. Izuku smooths his palm over the heated skin soothingly before shifting his hands to Shouto's hips and grabbing them so tightly it makes Shouto wince as his cock twitches from the pleasure the bruising grip causes.
"Your pale skin always shows my marks so well," Izuku mutters almost to himself, though it still makes Shouto's dark creature preen proudly. The idea of a bright pink outline of Izuku's hand standing out in high-definition on his flesh makes satisfaction and lust course through his veins and he pushes his hips back a little reflexively, sinking Izuku another inch or so inside of him.
Crack.
Izuku's palm comes down on his other asscheek with a resounding smack and Shouto jolts, whimpering loudly.
"I told you I was going to give you what you needed," Izuku hisses at him. When Shouto twists his neck a little to find his boyfriend in the mirror, he's met with fathomless dark eyes and lips curled into a feral snarl.
It takes every ounce of control Shouto possesses not to squirm and wriggle his hips in an attempt to be filled further. He wants Izuku inside him. Now.
"I told you I was going to remind you of why you never need to look to anyone else," he continues, voice rough, "I did not invite you to be a little brat and take whatever you want when you want."
"But you like it when I'm a brat," Shouto protests, aiming for a coy smile as he flutters his lashes. Izuku laughs, low and dark.
"Sometimes I do, sure," he says, "but honey, after your little stunt downstairs, I don't think you want to try pushing me today. No, today, I think it'd be best for you if you just stay still like a good boy and fucking take it ."
The last two words are snarled as Izuku slams his full length into Shouto, dragging a loud, screaming moan from him as his back arches further instinctively, trying to take Izuku deeper.
There's no time wasted on easing Shouto in, no pause for him to adjust to stretch and fullness. There's barely time for him to take a breath before Izuku is pounding into him, hard and fast. Shouto's fairly certain the power of Izuku's thrusts would have sent him sliding off the bed if his hips weren't being held in a vice grip.
All he can do is take it, just like Izuku said, moaning until he's struggling for breath, forcing air back into his lungs and then moaning again. He can't keep his eyes open to watch in the mirror, much as he'd like to, but they've fucked like this before so he can at least picture it. The way technicolour ink ripples across taut muscles, the way the scar on Izuku's left pectoral tugs and stretches with the movement. The look of intense concentration on Izuku's face, like nothing but the feel of Shouto around him and the sight of his dick disappearing into Shouto's ass matters.
It's a heady feeling, to be the sole focus of a man like Izuku.
"Fuck," his boyfriend snarls behind him, "you feel so fucking good ."
All Shouto answers with is a whine and the clench of his muscles around Izuku's cock.
"Do you need anyone else?" Izuku demands. Shouto says something that's supposed to be a no, though he's not sure it actually sounds like one. "Would that asshole you were all over have been able to give you this?"
Shouto vehemently repeats the same sound of denial and Izuku slams into him harder, burying himself deeper.
"I think you need a permanent reminder," Izuku says. He sounds nowhere near as wrecked as Shouto, but he at least sounds a little out of breath. Shouto would have been pissed if Izuku managed to sound completely unaffected while he's struggling to remember his own damn name.
The slap of Izuku's hips against Shouto's stinging asscheeks stops abruptly, and after a moment, there's an arm wrapping around his chest and hauling him up and backwards so that he's on his knees with Izuku's firm chest against his back again.
"Open your eyes, baby," Izuku encourages in a slightly softer voice. After a moment of struggling to remember how to make his eyelids cooperate, Shouto blinks his eyes open and finds Izuku holding a shining silver blade to the base of his throat just above his collarbone.
It's not any old knife, though. No, this knife is one that never gets slipped into Izuku's holsters, ready to be thrown at an enemy any moment. In fact, it never leaves their bedroom other than to be meticulously cleaned.
The handle is a marbled red and etched into the flat of the blade is Shouto's name.
His breath hitches as he stares at the sharp edge being just barely pressed to his skin. There's a singular bead of blood, thin as a sewing needle, slowly trailing down his chest from where the knife has shallowly parted his flesh.
It makes Shouto's cock jump as a whine breaks from his throat.
"Do you think you need a permanent reminder, honey?"
Shouto's eyes jump from the slow-moving trickle of blood to Izuku's face. He knows what his boyfriend is really asking. He's making sure that Shouto is in the mood for some of their slightly rougher play.
He nods his head enthusiastically, muscles clamping down around Izuku's cock in anticipation and pulling a pained groan from his boyfriend.
"Please," he rasps, desperate. Needy. Wanting.
Izuku nods firmly and resumes thrusting, moving his hips in and out slowly but pushing himself as deep into Shouto as he can go, grinding slightly just before each pull-out. It's deliciously torturous, lighting Shouto's nerves up body-wide.
Izuku trails the edge of the blade down Shouto's chest, over his tensed abs, leaving a long cut behind so shallow that it's pink instead of red, before settling on Shouto's hip.
There are several faint scars on them already, thin and straight because Izuku refuses to be careless with Shouto's body, and Shouto loves them. Runs his fingers over them every time he looks in the mirror after showering, caresses them when he's jerking off, admires them every time he gets dressed and undressed.
They're permanent reminders of Izuku's touch, buried in his skin, infinite.
"Izuku," he gasps as the head of Izuku's cock grinds hard against his prostate. His climax has been building, a slow but intense thing, ever since Izuku slid that third finger into him, and now it feels like if he doesn't come soon, he'll explode. Burst from the pressure of the orgasm waiting to happen.
"Every time you look at this one," Izuku tells him with a carefully controlled calmness, "you'll remember that no matter how badly you're being a little brat and craving attention, the only attention worth having," he pauses, looking straight into Shouto's eyes in the mirror, "is mine."
The knife's edge slides across his hip bone, parting his skin as blood cascades like a gentle waterfall from the cut. Izuku's hips grind against his ass and Shouto's nerves light on fire as he comes untouched, shuddering as he exhales Izuku's name like a prayer.
His vision whites out from the intensity of pleasure, ears ringing as he sinks into the depths and leaves the surface behind. There's a sound that might be Izuku saying his name, and then nothing until his eyes flicker open and he's looking at their bedroom ceiling.
"Are you back with me, honey?"
Shouto blinks slowly and turns his head to the side, finding Izuku kneeling beside him as he fusses over the slice on Shouto's hip. The blood seems to have been cleaned away from what he can see, and Izuku is pressing a soft dressing over the area with a faint but genuine smile on his lips.
His boyfriend likes leaving his permanent marks behind just as much as Shouto enjoys collecting them.
"I'm back, love," he murmurs. Izuku's eyes soften as he looks down at Shouto.
"I take it you've learned your lesson?"
Shouto hums mischievously. "Perhaps. I might want a refresher course in the future if that's what all the lessons will be like."
Izuku narrows his eyes playfully as he barks out a quick laugh. "Brat," he accuses. Shouto grins.
"Always."